


'Til you rest your bones on the killing bed

by Dansnotavampire



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: About death, Late Night Conversations, Like its fluff? But its sad fluff, Look thats it. Thats the vibe, M/M, Melancholy, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25273033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dansnotavampire/pseuds/Dansnotavampire
Summary: You love each other - that is a fact, and while it will not be enough to save you at the end of all this, it will have to be enough for now. You'll make it so.
Relationships: Daniel Jacobi/Warren Kepler
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	'Til you rest your bones on the killing bed

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Brandi Carlile's Things I Regret, which you should all go and listen to

"I want you to kill me," he whispers to you, one day, at five in the morning, when it's too early to be waking up and it's too late to be going to sleep. 

"What?" 

"I want you to kill me," he repeats, looking you square in the eye, far more directly than you would ever manage with such a sentence on your lips. He pauses, as if waiting for you to agree, to finally understand whatever point he is trying to make, but then carries on. "Someone's going to have to kill me eventually - I'm not getting out of this job alive, am I? So when someone has to kill me… I want it to be you." 

The thoughts that rush through your head then aren't happy ones - does he want this as revenge? For what, though - he's always been the one in charge, you've never had that kind of power. Or… is it because of something else? 

"Why?" you ask. "What did I do to deserve the - the punishment of killing you?" And then, after a breath.  _ "I don't want to watch you die." _ It's too… vulnerable, too tender for such an hour, such a place, such a person as you are. 

"It's not a punishment, Jacobi," he says. "I want you to kill me because I  _ trust  _ you, I want you to kill me, because I think you'll be able to survive it." 

You laugh at him, then, with a kind of brazen disbelief that you're only allowed to have under the covers, in private. "No offence, Sir," you say. "But fuck off - I'm not hurting you, not if you pay me." 

It's 5:03 now, by your reckoning. You're both slow at talking, this late at night, this heavy a subject. You roll over, put your back to him in a motion that is not so much dismissive as it is  _ trusting,  _ because you know about the knife that he sleeps with under his pillow. And you know about the one he tucks in his waistband, too, even though he thinks that you don't. An exposed back, for you, is like a bared neck. It's saying that you trust him not to stab you. 

"Goodnight," you whisper. 

_ 'I love you,'  _ you don't. 

"Goodnight, Mr Jacobi," he whispers back, and you know that you'll never tire of the way your name rolls off of his tongue. You know that you'll never tire of  _ him  _ \- even when you think that you have. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, and you can come and yell at me about these two @ dansnotavampire nearly anywhere online


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